


And thunder rumbles vaguely

by Ogawdy



Category: Warcraft (2016), World of Warcraft, World of Warcraft - Various Authors
Genre: Gen, kid! Khadgar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 10:52:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ogawdy/pseuds/Ogawdy
Summary: The Troll wars rage over Elwynn. Medivh returns to Dalaran to seek help and counsel from the Council of Six. Khadgar, then a simple mage novitiate, disrupts (unintentionally) his visit. Or- Khadgar and Medivh's first meeting. Set after the comic 'Bonds of Brotherhood' but before the Warcraft Movie.





	And thunder rumbles vaguely

**Author's Note:**

> "l'être le plus souillé retrouve l'innocence  
> dans sa toute tendresse et sa toute puissance ;  
> moi seul, moi le maudit, l'incurable apostat,  
> je m'approche de Dieu sans autre résultat  
> que de faire gronder vaguement le tonnerre !"  
> Victor Hugo, _La fin de Satan_ , _Satan pardonné_ , IV

Dalaran was unchanged, a dark cloud against the sky. It cast a wide shadow on the land below, down in the crater it left years ago, preventing grass and weeds from reclaiming the space. The hole was an open wound in Lordaeron’s land, where the city had been cut out from the earth. Now it floated miles above, majestic and frightening. From Medivh’s standpoint, he could barely make out the silhouettes of the numerous towers and steeples. The sun shone through the city’s bare roots. There was nothing from miles around, no villages or farms, making it seem like Dalaran was only an illusion caused by the heat, of a flying city high in the sky. 

Medivh's heart beat of longing and apprehension. He hadn’t spent as much time as the other mage novitiates at Dalaran’s university. His mother had taken care of his magical and political education, entrusting him with the high position of Guardian at the age of 11. Since, he had been roaming Azeroth, meeting with the people he now had to protect, learning about them first hand, and developing a deep love for this land and its many cultures. He hadn’t gone back to Dalaran in close to nine years when his mother had presented him to the council, his new power still widely uncontrolled, and announced them her decision. The archmages had been disapproving and wary of his 20 year old self. They had wanted to keep him for a few weeks, maybe some years, to train him. Medivh had thought better of it and simply left. He was the Guardian after all and Dalaran’s archmages had no authority on him. He knew eventually he would have to come back and face them. 

He had already lived so much and already he felt old. When his mother had judged him ready to take on the Guardian mantel, when he had refused the offer, almost an order, of the Kirin Tor to spend a few more years studying with them, he had first headed to Stormwind. He had been ecstatic to meet with his two lifelong friends, Llane and Anduin, who he had not seen for years. But soon the joy of their reunion had turned into the heartbreak and the anguish that war had brought upon the kingdom of Stormwind. Anduin, upon losing his wife and finding himself having to be a father to his newly-born, had alienated himself from his friend. And despite having taken back Stormwind from the trolls, the toll was heavy. Cally, king Adamant… Llane had to be a king for his people, and Anduin had to lead the armies. 

Medivh, also, had had a powerful role to play, finally stepping into the Guardian title and becoming a hero to the people. He had watched as the erected a giant statue of himself, wary of the way the inhabitants worshipped him. The years following the invasion of Stormwind, the three young men had grown up fast to lead the war against the Trolls and take back the land. Medivh had moved into the tower of Karazhan and soon, him and Llane, and Anduin, only ever met for council meetings. They had not shared a beer in so long, not had a chance to really talk. Medivh knew he was to blame yet his mind had been stubbornly busy with matters of magic and the study of the arcane, more than once losing days in the library, studying day and night without noticing. 

He had wanted to see what Dalaran had become in his many years of absence. He had also taken upon himself to travel throughout the land and meet with the people he now had to protect. In his travels, he had sent some young children with magic potential to be trained at the magical school of the arcane of the Kirin Tor. He wondered what they had become, mages novitiates or even graduates, or if they had been sent home, considered too weak for the power a mage wields. Medivh also wondered if they had already found one of the poor kids to be trained to take his mantel should he die. The power of Guardian was a responsibility he would wish on no one. He hadn’t wanted it himself and had been forced to accept it. He didn’t want any other kid to have to go through this.

Gathering his mana, Medivh started the incantation that would teleport him directly in front of the Mage’s Council’s room. He drew the figures on the ground with the tip of his staff, blue energy flowing through the earth, bringing his closed hand gently up to his face, enjoying the feeling of the mana enveloping his fingers. It swirled down the length of Atiesh, the heavy carved bird head humming with the flow of energy. The staff worked as a catalyzer for the power he wielded. Its strength was immense but such a simple spell only required an infinitesimally small amount. He barely felt the pull of mana from his body, only the flow of it, as if it was air and he was breathing it in and out. In his travels, he had slowly mastered his tremendous energy, learning how first to control its sheer force, then how to use it by enslaving it with power words and movements in order to get the optimum result. At first, he had been absolutely terrified of this power, feeling its strange and foreign presence in his veins. Along the years, he had come to know it, become familiar with it and finally enjoying the control of it. His mother would have been proud, if he knew where she was and she knew where he had gone.

The mana trembled against the iron fist of his mind, twisting it into the teleporting stance he wanted it to adopt. It all happened incredibly fast, Medivh being so used to the feeling of being displaced he forwent the recommended caution of the action. To the untrained eye, it would seem like he simply disappeared, in barely a flash of blue light. 

Medivh appeared in front of the Violet Citadel, on the steps that led to the immense and impressive building. Like every time he saw it, he felt shrunken by the sheer weight of the place. He took in the high marble towers shooting to the sky, their purple tiles glistening in the morning light. The mana crystals adorning the walls shed fractured lights on the walls and the tiled streets of the city below. There weren’t many merchants or scholars out yet and Medivh was grateful. This way, he hadn’t been seen teleporting right inside the city, a trick he shouldn’t have been able to pull.

He pushed the heavy doors to the citadel and entered the hall. The space was mostly empty and Medivh felt the eyes of every mage present set on him. Ignoring the curious gazes, he walked with confidence, up the steps and through the citadel until he reached the entrance to the Chamber of Air. He entered right as one of them, the Archmage Shendra, exclaimed loudly: “We cannot let the power of the Guardian go to another untrained and boorish ruffian!”

“What alternatives do you see to him taking on an apprentice?”

“Teach our own Guardian! Raise him here in Dalaran!”

They hadn’t notice Medivh entering the room yet, talking about him freely. Medivh took a second to admire the Chamber, a room he had always been fascinated about. It wore its name well, being made entirely out of air except for the ring on which each archmage stood, as if floating above whoever would dare enter. The walls had the iridescent glow one would compare to a rainbow, eye constantly catching on to solid matter just to focus on empty air. The effect it created had been specifically designed to put off those who were summoned by the Council of Six. Medivh remembered well the ceremony in which he had been branded Guardian novitiate, exiting the room with the burning mark of the Kirin Tor, a single watchful eye, embedded in the skin of his arm. Now however, he realized the Chamber, and its occupants, lost much of their terrifying authority when he was the one to invite himself in.

His brow furrowed at what he heard. He realized immediately the council was talking about him and of his successor. A dark weight settled in his gut. He decided to interrupt here and there, not knowing if he wanted to hear more.

“Raise him in Dalaran and make him a good little puppy that’ll follow your orders, magus Shendra? Make sure he doesn’t become another untrained ruffian?”

The whole council started, turning to look at him as he leisurely made his way up to the platform. He didn't enjoy knowing they discussed his matters without mentioning it to them even though it seemed obvious they would. He also had to admit to have thought about what would happen after him, even for a while considered taking on an apprentice to succeed him as Guardian. He never thought the Kirin Tor would try to force one on him however.

“Magi,” he greeted them.

He was met with cold gazes from each of them, and silence. One of them, however, laid a warm gaze on him, and stepped forward to welcome him. 

“Antonidas!” Medivh smiled. Although he had never managed to feel anything but contempt for the Archmages, Antonidas had been the only one to show him some kind of proud contentment in the short time in which Medivh had trained along with the other novitiates.

“What are you doing here, Guardian?” the Archmage asked.

Medivh sighed. It seemed they were going right down to business. He had hoped to handle this conversation in a more diplomatic way but he had no choice, now, but to state the matter which had brought him here in the first place.

“Magi,” he started, “you have been made aware of the situation in which Stormwind kingdom finds itself in. The trolls are turning up on every point on the map, slowly advancing towards the city. They burn and kill everything and everyone they cross path with, villages, homes, farms. The situation is dire.”

As he talked, Medivh made sure to glance at each of them, walking in circles around the room. The archmages were listening intently to him, yet he could see on their faces the confusion rapidly being replaced by disapproval as they understood what he was getting at.

“King Llane doesn’t send me,” he felt good to precise, “I came on my own. As the Guardian, you know I have been fighting alongside the Stormwind army since the beginning of the invasion.”

There were some nods but Medivh could only focus on their furrowed brow and tightened lips.

“I demand your help,” he breathed out, “to stand with Stormwind against the Trolls.”

Medivh hesitated, wondering if he should say more. The archmages did not look convinced. As a last resort, Medivh turned towards Antonidas.

They didn’t have time to add anything. The ground shook at first before a low rumble could be heard. This was unusual. Medivh turned towards the door as it was wrenched wide open by a low rank mage, panting.

“Sirs…! The library, it exploded!”

***

If anyone asked, he was not trespassing because the door had been opened. Of course he knew that it was supposed to be locked and no one was allowed inside. But the door was not locked when he arrived so he really did not think he could be blamed for entering. He could always claim he had stepped inside to investigate. Maybe someone had broken in. Yes, that was what he would say if he got caught. It would not exactly be a lie, except he was not investigating and he had very purposefully entered the library in order to seek out the books. But the mages did not need to know this.

Khadgar passed a hand upon the leather covers, examining the curious writings on the spine. Some were in ancient languages that he could recognize but not read, while others he had never seen before. One book caught his eyes. It was written in High Elven, a language he was learning here at the Kirin Tor. The book was a deep blue with silver lining. The title was carved into the leather. The words were unknown to him but he could read them. Opening the book, he flipped through the pages, and started reading.

He could have stayed hours sitting in the library reading but Khadgar was not in the mood. He had a purpose now that he had managed to enter the library. He was going to try his powers. He was well aware the mages did not let him use the full extent of his magic. He had already been talked down multiple times by various masters because he got bored during lessons. The other apprentices just were not going on the same pace as him but the masters would not let him try new more demanding spells. So he figured he would take care of his own training.

The book he was currently reading talked a lot about fire magic. There was numerous spells that required intense control, sigils, incantations. Some even asked for specific powders and items in order to perform the spell. Khadgar did not have all of those at his disposal. He read on until he found a simple flame spell, with the corresponding incantation written in old High elven in a beautiful handwriting. He spent several minutes studying the letters, committing them to memory in order to perfect his own handwriting. Then, he read it a few times over to be sure to pronounce it correctly before he stood up.

He brushed down his robes, took a deep breath, and called out to the arcane. He liked the familiar hum of it in the air around him, like it somehow purred in pleasure at his simple presence. It felt like coming home. He had always been able to feel the arcane moving around him, even before he had ever heard the word “mage” or even “magic.” When his parents had sent him to the Kirin Tor, Khadgar had not understood. He had spent days without talking to anyone or eating anything. In the first days at Dalaran, he had missed his siblings the most. He had found immense comfort in the simple feeling of power that pumped in the very stones of the flying city. He had observed with growing curiosity the older apprentices training in courtyards and streets. Soon, he had begged a master to teach him some spells he had seen been practiced. 

Everyone at the Kirin Tor had been very kind to him. His power had quickly been noticed by the mages and he had received perhaps more attention than other apprentices who arrived the same time he did. Even though, he had to follow the same restrictions as the others and he rapidly felt trapped. He knew he had the potential in him to do great things if only the masters let him. The open library door was like a light-sent miracle. It had not taken much for Khadgar to step inside. This was his only chance to prove his worth to the Magi.

He opened his mouth and cast the spell.

The library exploded.

***

Medivh was the first to react, soon followed by the entire council. Antonidas was right behind him, having grabbed hold of his robes to run faster. The library was situated in the left wing of the Violet Citadel, home to the Kirin Tor. There was a small crowd gathering around the collapsed portion of the wall. Security mages were securing the area to idle bystanders. The threat had not been identified yet. The mages let Medivh and the council pass without a word. They entered the library by its front door that had been spared.

“It was in the prohibited section, Magus,” said Shendra.

Another mage informed him since it was curfew hours, no students had been allowed in the library. There were no casualties or wounded. However, Medivh could feel the signature of a very strong magic in the rubble. With a sign towards Antonidas that he was going in, Medivh made his way towards the prohibited section.

The warded door was slightly open. Medivh stepped through without triggering any traps. He made a mental note to signal this breech in their security to the archmages once he would have made sense of what had happened here. 

Outside the library, they could hear shouts about the city being on lockdown. An explosion anywhere would have been bad but the restricted section of library held some of the most rare and dangerous books of Azeroth. The mages gathered to perform some security spells, scanning the rubbles before stepping in. There was no guaranty whoever was responsible was still around but there was a slight possibility they had been caught unaware by the explosion. 

Medivh remembered this portion of the library well. His mother, the Archmage Aegwynn, would take him here despite the council’s protest any time she visited Dalaran for diplomatic, or less so, matters. The place was dimly lit, huge bookshelves obscuring what little light entered from the rest of the library. There were no windows. The explosion had blown most torches out. Only a few blue orbs still lit the space, giving a gloomy aura to the bookshelves. The top books lost themselves in the dark. Some spines gave off a gleam, little patches of light on the ceiling. The same feeling Medivh always got as a child filled his chest at the presence of such powerful magics. He remembered holding on to his mother’s robes when the energies reached out to him, whispering in languages foreign to him, tempting him. His mother would smile and walk on, always unaffected, always in control. 

Medivh could feel them right now, probing at his skin, his mental wards, his mana. The sheer amount of power contained in the room was enough to make the hair rise on his arms. The prospect of a trespasser penetrating the section and stealing something was a worrying one.

Medivh ventured slowly through the shelves, testing the arcane with each step, trying to assess if the culprit was still in the premises. Medivh approached the area of the explosion. Shelves had fallen down, books had been sent flying everywhere, laying on the floor. Most, protected by wards, were still unopened, the cover safely shut on the dangerous spells contained in their pages. However, Medivh could see a few who were laying around wide-open, and he feared some spells has been set loose in the blast. The cleaning up would be interesting.

Medivh was surveying the rubble. The mana signature here was stronger than anywhere else. It felt peculiar to Medivh, unstable somehow, like it had been begging to explode under the pressure of the uncontrolled power. Then, he sensed a feeble, almost unnoticeable pulse, like a heartbeat, slow and steady. Medivh stilled, slowly bending the arcane, bracing himself. 

He made his way quietly and carefully towards the pile of books from where the pulse emanated. From the tip of his staff, he cleared the pile, books falling to the side, finally revealing a small, curled figure underneath. Medivh almost dropped his wards in surprise. 

He was only a child. In the blast, he must have been knocked out and crushed under the falling books. He was slowly regaining consciousness, whimpers escaping his mouth. He must have been hurt in the explosion. He wore the deep purple robes of novitiates. He didn’t look more than ten.

Medivh crouched down and laid a hand on the child’s back. He started and recoiled, shying away from the touch. Bright brown eyes opened and latched themselves fearfully on Medivh’s face. Medivh settled on his shins. He put his worry on hold just for the time it would take for the child to trust him enough to approach him. He softened his gaze and tried to emanate a protective aura. He knew himself to perhaps not be the most reassuring figure for kids. In his many years of travel, there had been one too many times where he failed to establish a contact with magical children. Here, however, the stakes were different: he had to gain this child’s trust if he wanted to help him.

“What is your name?” he asked.

The novitiate jumped at the sound of his voice. His eyes were constantly moving from one focus point to the other. He seemed to have been knocked out in the blast. Now that Medivh was close to him, he could sense the explosion came from his power. This kid had snuck into the library and tried out spells he shouldn’t ever have had access to. Any anger that Medivh could have felt would have been directed at the Magi who had not been able to shield the area enough to prevent a child from entering. However, at this moment, Medivh felt no anger, and certainly none at this child who looked terrified and lost. If he even remembered how he got here, he was no doubt fearing he would be punished. He did not dare meet Medivh’s eyes and did not answer the question. The mage swallowed a sigh.

He extended a hand, slowly, making sure not to startle him. When the child stopped shaking, Medivh took it as a good sign. But his eyes had also stopped moving, instead focusing on a single point behind Medivh. The Guardian stilled. Cold sweat ran down his back. His arcane reacted right as he swiveled around, shouting out a spell.

“Ullaman takan!”

A shivering blue shield surrounded them both. The mana storm trashed and bumped into the shield, desperate to bring it down, moved by an unknown disembodied force filled with wrath. Medivh gathered his power, eyes turning a blinding white until he released the final blow. His energy escaped him in a gush of air, disrupting both the physical and magical realms for the few seconds it took to blow the spirit to pieces. For a surreal moment, the space surrounding the mage was completely devoid of mana energy until it flowed back in like a breaking tide.

Books and shelves had been pushed around by his power, creating a peculiar circle around him and the boy, who had cowered into a tight ball, hands over his head and head between his legs. Medivh rushed to his side, and reached out a hand. However, as soon as his hand touched the boy’s shoulder, he cried out and retreated fearfully. Medivh held his hands up, intending to prove him he meant him no harm. He waited, impatience singing in his veins but he stifled it. The kid’s eyes slowly lost their wild and crazy aspect, no longer taking up half of his face by how wide he had them open. He noticeably loosened up after a few minutes.

“Are you hurt?” Medivh asked him then.

The kid quickly shook his head. He brought his legs to his chest, rocking back and forth softly, and muscles trembling only slightly. He looked awfully pale in the blue hues emanating from the books. He was going into shock. Medivh needed to get him out.

“We need to make sure you are alright. First, I am going to get you out. I will have to touch you to do so. Will you let me?”

Above all, what Medivh dreaded was that the kid react so negatively to his touch he resorted to using his magic. Based on the explosion that had led him here, Medivh knew the power this kid wield was immense. He did not know what he would do with a panicked little mage like him.

When the kid met his eyes and nodded just once, Medivh let out a sigh of relief, smiling as he did so. He extended a hand and it was taken without a moment of hesitation. He then lifted the kid to his feet by the armpits, dusting off some of the rubbles at first before hefting him up in his arms in one swift moment. The kid curled on himself and kept silent, head hidden in Medivh’s chest. With a hand on his head and the other under his legs, Medivh set out on his way out of the library. With each step, he felt his wards waver against wild magic floating around them. There were advantages to living in a city full of mages and that was that they all knew how to react to spells set loose and quickly too, but the disadvantages were the gathering of such great and dangerous powers in one place such as the library. It was of immense value for the study of magical phenomenon but it held as great a threat. 

As soon as he stepped out, Medivh could feel his arcane relax and the pressure recede. He felt the little mage shift and move his head up. He looked down and crossed his gaze, equal parts scared and amazed. Medivh’s lips stretched in a genuine smile as his hold on the boy tightened. Warmth ran through him, a strange and foreign feeling filling him at the sight of this small soul cradled in his arms. In the same intense flash, Medivh was stricken by an unfathomable sadness dripping with longing and pain. He tried to fight it but memories flooded his mind for a few second, blanking out every last thought he might had, of a tender touch and it was as if he could feel, from galaxies apart, the beating heart of another tiny soul intricately linked to his. He knew his gaze had reflected this malaise because the child looked at him now with a mix of innocent worry and expectancy. He forced a smile.

“Now let’s find someone to take care of you,” he said, both to reassure him and to ground himself into the moment.

At his words, the boy tightened his grasp on Medivh’s robe, hiding his face once again. The Guardian came to a halt, watching with curiosity and amazement as this little kid did not want to let go of him. He felt a surge of feelings he did not have time to analyze. They were soon surrounded with mages chattering and reaching for the boy all at the same time. Medivh turned on himself to keep him away from their grasp. He looked for an escape that presented itself in the form of Antonidas walking towards them.

“Khadgar!” the Archmage called out, the crowd seemingly pushed away by his very presence, much to Medivh’s relief. “What have you done,” he whispered as soon as he reached them.

The boy lifted his head at the sound of his name. Tears welled up in his eyes yet he fought against them. Antonidas, his long white beard unkempt, looked more worried than angry at him. Medivh looked at Khadgar who still did not let him go.

“Do you speak?” he asked half out of malice.

He seemed to startle suddenly again, head coming back to rest in the folds of his robe. Medivh’s eyes crinkled even as Antonidas bore a long-suffering yet affectionate look.

“He does speak and quite a lot, in fact,” he sighed. “Is he alright, at least?”

Medivh couldn’t help a laugh and reassured the Archmage as to Khadgar’s wellbeing. He then asked if they could be led to a quiet place and Antonidas agreed. The mages were already busying themselves in the rebuilding of the collapsed portion of the library. Out the corner of his eye, Medivh noticed a few young mages battling against capricious books. They entered the Violet Citadel, home of the Kirin Tor, and reached the common place. It hadn’t changed a bit from what Medivh remembered. Sofas draped in gold and purple were in the corners and in the center of the room was a magical eternal fire. 

Medivh set Khadgar down on a sofa and crouched down in front of him. His face was dark of soot from the fiery explosion. The Magus wiped his face with his sleeve, now thankful he had kept his travel clothes instead of changing into ceremonial robes. Antonidas stood next to him, arms crossed with his hands hidden in his sleeves.

“Will you tell us what happened now, Khadgar?” Medivh asked the boy.

As was expected, he did not answer. His legs were going back and forth and he was looking down at the ground, sheepish. Medivh decided to take on another approach.

“Khadgar, do you swear to protect Azeroth and its people?”

Medivh knew what he was doing and he knew Antonidas had caught on also. This was a ripped-off version of the oath the Guardian had to swear when given his title. Medivh remembered when Antonidas had been the one to make him swear it, when he was about Khadgar’s own age. Medivh, contrary to Khadgar, had been born to become Guardian and as such had been taught the oath as soon as he could talk. Khadgar however did not know anything about it. His answers would be honest.

“Yes,” he sniffled.

Medivh nodded slowly. “There are dark forces in this world that want to threaten Azeroth’s safety. Would you be willing to rise against them and prove yourself worthy of a title of protector of Azeroth?”

Khadgar looked at him suspiciously now, perhaps realizing his answers held more meaning than he had first thought. “Of course. This is why I am training to become a mage of the Kirin Tor.”

“Then you must understand that someone entering the library without permission is a threat to not only Dalaran, but all of the people you have sworn to protect. You have just seen how the library can be a very dangerous place. If it had been an evil person who had stepped inside today instead of you, there could have been dire consequences. Do you understand?”

Head hung low, Khadgar answered in a low voice: “Yes.”

“Then you must help us. How did you enter the library?”

Both of the mages’ gaze were set on Khadgar and the attention made him fidgety. He was however trustful of the two men and he decided to tell them what he had done, in spite of the inevitable punishment that would follow.

“The door was open,” he answered truthfully.

“What?” Antonidas couldn’t help but blurt out.

Medivh turned a reproachful gaze towards the Magus. He addressed Khadgar: “You mean the door to the restricted section?”

The boy nodded.

“But you knew it was restricted. Why did you go in?”

He opened his mouth, eyes going to Antonidas, and closed it again. He hesitated for a second before he crossed Medivh’s insistent gaze. “I wanted to try out new spells. I thought- I saw the door open and… I’m sorry, Magus,” he ended up saying.

Medivh squeezed his shoulder, whispered it was okay and got up. He gestured to Antonidas and they stepped away from Khadgar. Medivh talked in a low voice.

“The library door should not have been open. I suggest you look into this before punishing the boy.”

“He is lying, Guardian. The door could not have been open. He forced it.”

“How old is he? And how many wards lock that door? If you punish the boy without looking into his story first, you put Dalaran and the whole of Azeroth in danger. No one should be allowed in without supervision in the first place, but if only a child can break into your restricted section then there is an issue, Magus.”

Medivh went back to Khadgar, sitting next to him this time. “What did you mean about trying out new spells? Don’t the instructors teach you already?”

Khadgar’s eyes lit up suddenly in a mix of defiance and frustration. “They only teach boring spells! I have mastered them long ago. They don’t know what to do with me so they make me sit in a corner while the other weaker apprentices are taught. I just wanted to do something useful for once!”

Medivh blinked. He had felt the boy’s arcane and had assessed of his powers immediately.

Antonidas loomed above them. “Now you know this isn’t all true, Khadgar. You refuse to do the exercise the mages ask you to do.”

“Because they are boring!” exclaimed the boy. “I do not care for their little magic tricks. Show us real magic! One that will be useful! To protect the people!”

While talking, he gestured towards Medivh as if making an example. Antonidas set a dark glare on the Guardian who couldn’t help but smirk. He knew the Archmage would reproach him of being a bad influence on the kid but he had to admit he had often felt the same even when his mother was teaching him. Khadgar’s power was too great to be contained by the Kirin Tor and yet they would have to.

“He is right, you know,” he said, eyes twinkling in malice.

“Do not,” simply said the Archmage. “Go on, Khadgar, you need to get cleaned up.”

The boy did not try to resist and jumped to his feet, skipping away in this unique way children had of walking. Medivh watched him go, thoughtful.

“I will not make him Guardian,” Antonidas warned. “He does not have the wisdom.”

“Wisdom is something that is learnt, Magus.”

“What was it you said about our good little puppies, Medivh?”

He chuckled briefly, face going dark. “The role of Guardian is one I would wish upon no one.”

Antonidas’s eyes darkened momentarily. “Medivh –“

“It is too much,” Medivh interrupted him, “for a single person. To handle.”

In this moment, Medivh was sure all the exhaustion he felt wrote itself on his dug in features, the slump of his back, the twitch of his hands. He felt old, older than anyone could ever get to be. And he felt his protection waver under the weight of his knowledge. Behind his eyelids, like a pyre suddenly lighting up, a green-tinted shadow lurked. 

Medivh blinked and looked over to the Archmage. He noticed the worry in the wrinkles around his glowing eyes and attempted to smile. Antonidas did not smile back.

“About Stormwind,” Medivh brought up next. Antonidas made to interrupt him but Medivh held up a hand to stop him. “Please. I knew you would refuse. I just- I had to try.”

It was his duty. Antonidas seemed to understand so Medivh stood up and nodded. “Farewell.”

He walked away without waiting for an answer. Outside, the library was almost entirely rebuilt already, thanks to the combined effort of the mages. There were still some working inside to enclose the books back into their wards. Medivh walked by without anyone noticing him and headed to Krasus’ landing where the gryphons came and went. The flight master offered him a ride but he declined. He went to the center of the landing and gathered his mana. He did not bother relishing in the feeling of it this time, bending it and twisting it into the teleportation rules in mere seconds. Right as he was about to get transported away, he noticed a small figure by a window. He halted the spell just for the time it took to cross the boy’s eyes. He winked and teleported.

Back on non-flying ground, Medivh spared a last glance at Dalaran. He did not expect to come back before a long while. He did not even know what had pushed him to come this time. He knew, however, he did not regret his visit. He told himself, as he started to walk, Dalaran’s shadow stretching before him, that he would remember the deep brown eyes peering at him from under a pile of books, and then later, from behind the window.

***

**Author's Note:**

> Not edited, not betaed. Comments welcome:)!


End file.
